A Damn Party
by theGoddessofSilence
Summary: Q's farewell party. Tragic ending. Short.
1. Chapter 1

**A DAMN PARTY**

_By the Goddess of Silence_

Bright banners were hung in the room and a table with an assortment of drinks had been set up in the far corner. MI6 staff members crowded the room, everyone happy yet sad at the same time. Q stood in the corner, a sullen look on his face. Slowly, James made his way across the room to where the old man stood.

"It doesn't look like you're having much fun at your own farewell party, Q," he said casually, leaning against the wall. He looked down at the white haired man and smiled.

"Well, it's hard to have fun at a farewell party, 007. Especially your own. I just can't imagine not coming here every day and bickering with _you_." A small, half-smile appeared on the old inventor's face, but it was quickly replaced with a scowl.

"Q, it's a party in your honor; the most you can do is _look_ like you're having fun. Even M seems to be enjoying herself," James commented, nodding at the elderly woman across the room. She had a glass of something in her hand and a broad smile on her face.

"007, I have been head of the Q section for nearly 40 years, and I'm not quite ready to give up my position to an inexperienced coot," Q sighed, looking at what was soon to be his predecessor, or as James affectionately called him "R".

"Q, we must all move on. Don't worry about it; I'll keep an eye on him for you." James said, patting the old man on the back.

"If he were a woman you'd keep more than an eye on him," Q grumbled as he moved away. As he did, Christmas Jones came up behind James, her hands snaking around his shoulders.

"You didn't tell me this was going to be a snore fest," she complained, straightening out his tie and kissing him on the cheek. He shoved her away, reluctantly, of course.

"Darling, any party we have here is boring, but it's important to me. I've known Q for what seems like forever; there's no point in missing his farewell party simply because it's boring." He said, smoothing down her hair.

"Good evening, 007," said a far too happy voice. It was R. James faked a smile for he was hardly pleased by the man's presence. R had been on poor grounds with him since their first meeting. The man hadn't even met him and yet he had already collected everything he thought he knew about James Bond, and he had added it all up and calculated one thing; playboy. And if anything hurt James more than that title it was death.

"Have you been drinking?" James asked as R leaned in to him. The man had a cheesy smile plastered on his face and his eyes were bright and cheery.

"Hardly!" R laughed, leaning against the wall. Christmas looked at him for a long while before she went off to talk to a few of the other agents. James was stuck with the drunken inventor with no way out. He looked around and was relieved when M walked up. Her smiled disappeared when she saw him though.

"I see you brought along your newest attraction," she said, eyeing Christmas. James shifted uncomfortably. After the heat-sensor issue he and M had been on rocky grounds. She took a small sip of the drink she carried with her then turned her attention to R who was laughing hysterically.

"Why don't you go lie down," she said softly, patting him on the back. With one final chuckle the man collapsed on the floor out cold. She shook her head, disgusted at the newest addition to the Q branch.

"She seems like a polite enough young woman," M went on, sizing up Christmas. "It's really too bad that you won't keep her around for more than a week. You know, James, you really ought to find a wife and settle down. If you haven't noticed, you're getting on with your years. Q is retiring, and I have a feeling you'll be next." Now James looked at her, appalled.

"Ma'am, that was totally out of line," he protested, "what I do with my love life is none of your business." M just shrugged.

"You're getting careless, 007. What happens if you end up hostage?"

"You're just worried about losing your best man. Marriage isn't going to improve my senses, M. I'll let you know when I'm too old for the job. Trust me; that time isn't anywhere near." He moved away from the elderly lady, stepping cautiously over R's body.

Now Moneypenny neared him. Her normal flirtatious attitude was absent as she handed him a drink.

"Have you finally gotten yourself a girlfriend, James?" She asked, glowering at Christmas from across the room. The woman couldn't see the secretary, but it she could… if looks could kill.

"The only girlfriend I'll ever have is you, my dear. You're a girl, and you're my friend. Christmas is an… acquaintance."

"If sleeping together qualifies as a simple acquaintance, we have never met." Moneypenny said, walking away with her nose in the air. She joined M and the two quickly became engaged in a conversation most probably about the infamous James Bond.

"Something wrong?" Christmas asked kissing James full on the lips. He forced her away roughly. Quickly his gaze softened and he took her by the hand, leading her away from the party. "James?" She questioned as he led her down the hall to a closet.

"I need a bit of comforting," he said, drawing her close and dropping his drink. He kissed her neck, biting her skin gently. Her arms slid around his waist and his wandered across her chest.

"Oh, James," she gasped. He reached up and flicked off the light, pushing her against the wall of the closet. His jacket fell from his shoulders and her dress fell lower and lower on her arms, baring her chest to him. Moving a bit to the left James bumped into several mops, knocking them over, but he paid no attention to them. "Oh, JAMES!" Christmas cried a bit louder. As she did, the door to the closet burst open. Moneypenny stood there glaring at him with the faint sparkle of tears in her eyes. The shadowy figure of M was behind her, her arms crossed.

"Q wants you, James," she said, her voice upset. James coughed loudly, his face flushing. M's toe was tapping and her eyebrow was raised. Moneypenny did nothing to mask her anger and depression.

Christmas quickly pulled up her dress and moved past Moneypenny, careful not to brush arms with the secretary. James moved a bit slower, appalled by his own action. As he passed the two women a cold chill settled in the air.

"007, I can't take anymore of this nonsense," Q complained the instant he saw the secret agent. "Would you mind driving me home?" James sighed as he glanced back at Moneypenny and nodded. It would be good for him to get away from the party too. Calling Christmas over the three of them exited through the front doors.


	2. Later

**LATER…**

James Bond awoke in bed with an IV drip in his arm and a bandage on his head. He couldn't recall anything; his mind was blank. Moneypenny sat by his side dressed in black, a sorrowful look on her face.

"James, can you hear me?" She asked quietly, placing a hand on his. He looked at her through a haze of distant memories. He couldn't recall the reason for his injuries. The last thing he could remember was leaving the party. A shooting pain ran through his leg and he winced in pain.

"What happened?" He grunted. Moneypenny's eyes welled tears as she spoke both because of what had happened and the fact that James was alive and mostly well.

"You crashed your car, James," she said through tears. Her hand gripped his. "It flipped three times, ending upside down. The car was totaled, James," she whispered. "You're lucky to be alive. I'm so sorry I was upset with you," the silver tears rolled from her face and fell onto the bed. James could faintly remember it. He could see the bright lights in the back of his mind, and he could hear Christmas' screams… Christmas; what had happened to her? And Q?

"Moneypenny," James said with much urgency in his voice. She looked at him, hardly having enough strength to lift her head. "What happened to Christmas and Q?" There was a long silence and stillness settled over the room. James knew what had happened. "They died, didn't they?" He asked, his own ears not willing to listen to the words he had spoken. Moneypenny nodded. "Damn me," James whispered.


End file.
